


What Could Have Been

by mamfywritings1234



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Chris is a drunk asshat, Drunkenness, I'm Sorry, M/M, Nivanfield?, Not Really Character Death, Piers lives AU, kinda shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamfywritings1234/pseuds/mamfywritings1234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piers almost dies, but someone picks him up. Chris tries to cope with the loss of his ATL and then gets a surprise when he arrives home drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Could Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note:  
> Edit - As of March 17, 2016 this fanfic has been edited to look more pleasing to my eyes, and some grammatical errors were fixed. 
> 
> I’m sorry that the tenses in this fanfic might change this is my first time writing in this point of view not to mention my first RE fiction ever and it’s been awhile since I’ve written. This fanfiction may be continued on or not it all depends on how I feel this works.
> 
> The current section of the fanfiction you are about to read is supposed to take place over about thirty to forty seconds. It seems longer with the way I have written it, but you must remember is take less than a second for a human to take in their surroundings and all of this is in Piers’ head at the time.

            Piers didn’t know what to do. On the verge of death and regenerating health, after saving Chris’s escape pod from the gigantic B.O.W., he couldn’t help but think about his impending doom. He had used up the last of his energy to create the bolt of electricity to kill HAOS. It was a hard decision for him to separate from his captain and stay to die, but he had to make sure Chris had gotten to the surface. Now all Piers had to do was wait for death to come and that was even questionable do to the current spotty regeneration.

            He had heard explosions from the center of the oil mine/ Neo- Umbrella facility earlier, and he could still hear them coming to the upper levels. “ _Well,”_ he had thought at the time, “ _maybe the on-coming explosion will kill me since the flooding water hadn’t. It would suck to have to live like this forever…”_ He clung to the wall of his prison has he felt another explosion tremor though the water.

            Piers lazily and half-heartedly looked at the evidence of his downfall: His mutated arm with veins pulsing faintly with the electricity’s blue light. He didn’t know how he got the electric ability; no other B.O.W. file mentioned anything along those lines. He turned his head away, _“It must have been the enhanced strain of C-Virus that I took…”_

            He looked at his arm again. It didn’t cause him too much pain now mostly just muscle strain from the oversized limb. Piers found it disgusting, disturbing even. This swollen, infected thing replaced his arm, but it’s also proof of his sacrifice for his captain. He doesn’t regret it he never would, all that pain and sacrifice he wouldn’t regret even in the afterlife.

            He groans inwardly as he recalled the memory: Getting slammed against the wall then sliding down onto some twisted metal, almost severing his arm off. He cringed remembering the door of the room they were in being thrown towards him because of HAOS, crushing the bones in his arm, keeping him pinned.

            That damn B.O.W… All he had wanted was to escape, to continue living, and to possibly even somehow convince his captain to take a shot at a relationship.

            “He better stop his fuckin’ drinking and steroids and pull his shit together.” He had growled, allowing water to rush into his lungs. The sensation was uncomfortable, but it did not drown him; the virus had adjusted his body to resist the pressure and breathe in the water.

            New blasts boomed, louder than the last and close enough to cause the tremors to become stronger like slightly more violent vibrations. He looked toward the door he and Chris had come through; the doors were busted from the B.OW. coming through and explosions were now making themselves known. 

_“All because of that B.O.W this shit happened, that damned thing just had to go and fuck everything up.”_ He laughed at himself- a wet, slow laugh making the water in his lungs jet out, sounding sickly even muffled in the liquid. _“Here I am on the verge of death, getting pissed at a B.O.W because it apparently tore apart a non- existent relationship!”_

            He heard another explosion – closer – causing the in the water to become bigger, and making him sway with them. _“Time to leave this place, and disappear for good - about damn time.”_ He thought to himself as he took a deep breath, water refilled his lungs and caused him to become extremely uncomfortable again.

            Suddenly, he was thrust out through the breaking tunnel that Chris’s escaped pod went through. Being blown out into the ocean had caused his front side to hurt with both the water and final explosions pressure; his other half was numb from the tingling friction of speeding in to the open water. Then he was floating. His eyesight began to black out, and he continued to float while his body fought for life.

            He felt his body attempting to regenerate and failing, His pain receded, he become cold and unable to feel. Piers had attempted to get one last look around; nothing except water, darkness, and eventually the light that everyone has seen at deaths door.

            He blacked out as something reached out for him.

 

 

 

            Ada was getting extremely tired of psychopathic idiots. She was going to do this last job for her client and then she was heading out on her own. All she needed was this young B.S.A.A. recruit to go along with the slightly pale green, young man she had knocked out in the back of her sub: She had to get samples of the virus from both of them; and then she wouldn’t have to do anything for anyone again.

 

 

 

            Three months later:

            Chris glared back at the bar tender as he walked out of the building. This is the second time this week she kicked him out of the bar, even though he had done nothing to terribly wrong. He walked out to the street and looked around, vaguely trying to remember the way back to his temporary apartment. He had decided to fuck thinking and just chose a random direction.

            “Damn bar tenders doing more than what they’re paid to do…” he grumbled to himself, staggering as he began to trip over nothing. He caught himself before face planting into the sidewalk, and almost lost it when the scarf he had been wearing fell into his sight. For a moment he thought Piers was there trying to steady him as the scarf waved gently in front of him. The blood stained patch on the scarf’s end ruined the relatively good illusion.

            Chris gritted his teeth, made himself stand up straight, and continued to walk in his chosen direction. Throwing the scarf end over his shoulder, he couldn’t stop thinking about the young ace. Piers was a good guy, he had helped Chris throughout the down time before China. He had helped him to calm down on his drinking and smoking…

            “Bet Nivans would be pleased to see he was the cause of my lapse this time.”

            He ran his hand along the scarf; it was military issue, and one of Piers’. He had specifically asked for the scarf from the family and they had given it to him in understanding. Chris had then taken the blood stained patch piers had given him, before he sacrificed himself, and sewn it onto the scarf. Chris always wore the scarf now, never really taking it off much like Piers had done himself.

            The captain sighed and extracted a carton of cigarettes from his pocket. He took one out of the carton with his mouth, put the carton back, and he then lit it up, inhaling from the cancer stick when it finally stayed lit. He continued to walk eventually giving up and calling a cab to take him home.

            When Chris arrived home something was definitely off. The place was neater, definitely cleaner, and all his personal alcohol was missing, but there was no sign of anyone breaking in. He was confused. He could have sworn he took the key away from Jill last time he saw her, so it couldn’t have been her. He didn’t understand why someone would break into his house, clean his apartment, and not take the expensive guns or jewelry he owned. He walked into his room and failed to notice the lump of covers on his bed.

            Chris went to his bathroom, stripped, and started a shower. Oblivious to the movement in his room, he forgot about his possible intruder and soaked in the temporary peace he found with the water running down his body. When the water ran cold, he finally got out of the shower and dried himself off.

            He walked out of his bathroom and over to his bed.

            He squatted down and got a box out that contained a hidden stash of his favorite whiskey, stood up and grabbed a cup off the nightstand and poured himself a glass. He turned around so he could sit on his bed and froze. He looked at the familiar shape of a young man he used to know, sitting in a chair by the bathroom door, and then looked at his drink.

            “I’m not drunk enough for this shit… Am I?” he mumbled to himself, causing a laugh from the man that Chris could swear up and down was dead.

            After downing his glass he set it back on the nightstand and walked over to his supposed hallucination. He still had his baby face, minus the mutated multiple eyes he remembered the virus causing; red-violet scaring covered the right side of his face and his entire right arm, implying connection under his shirt; the right arm that had mutated so horribly was a normal size and shape again, with a sky blue pulsing light coming from his veins underneath his skin; and the man’s hair was flat, not in his usual style.

            “Captain?” the hallucination asked. “What are you doing? You’re staring."

            “Trying to figure out if my mind is creative enough to come up with something like this…” Chris paused, “Or if I died of alcohol poisoning somewhere on the side of the road.”

            Another laugh, “Chris you are not hallucinating and you're not dead either.”

            “My hallucination would say that trying to convince me it’s real.”

            “Then touch me. If I was a hallucination logic says I shouldn’t be tangible.

  
            Chris reached out and touched his good arm; still very solid, warm and human feeling. His breath had stopped. 

            “Captain, breathe,” his now very real hallucination said. 

            The captain reminded himself to breathe again and started looking over his partner. He quickly assessed his body checking for any sort of injury, and taking care of any he had found. When he was done he ran his hand through his own hair and sighed.

            “Are you okay Chris?”

            “I’m fine,” he replied, “What you did was stupid,”

            “Capt-“

            “Don’t try to say otherwise.”

            The man sighed, but it was cut off as well when Chris hugged him. ”Don’t do it again…” Chris said to him.

            “Don’t worry Captain,” the man said, “Piers Nivans will always be reporting for duty from now on,” He laughed a little.

            “Good,” Chris replied, “Now get your ass in bed and get some sleep, you have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow.”

            “Yes, Sir.”

            The young man crawled into Chris’s bed, to the spot he was before and laid on his side. Chris climbed in behind him and shocked himself and the man when he wrapped an arm around him.

            “Good night, Piers…”

            “Good night, Chris…” Piers had paused for a moment, “Chris?"

            “Mm?"

            “Next time please remember to at least put on underwear when you come out of the shower.”

            “Maybe, maybe not. Get some sleep.”

 

 


End file.
